


Approaching Civilisation

by ButterflyGhost



Series: Cold Outside [2]
Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:51:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after the night before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Approaching Civilisation

Ben woke in somebody’s arms, and it wasn’t her. He had a tree root digging into his leg, his back was stiff (in fact, no doubt about it, his back was very sore) but he was happy. Somebody was holding him, and oh... thank God it wasn’t her. He could hear a rhythmic beat in his right ear where his head rested against a male chest, and felt an arm curled protectively round his shoulders, fingers against his cheek, the other hand on his waist. When he opened his eyes, Ray was turned toward him. They were so close that if Ray had been awake they’d have been gazing into each other’s eyes. For a blissful moment, Ben was purely happy.  


Then Ray opened his eyes.

And… oh God. Happiness went crashing away.

He’d not woken up with many people over the years, but not once in all that time had he been greeted with a look of horror.

He felt his face freeze, and pulled himself back, away from his friend. Good Lord… what must Ray be thinking? What had his face shown? In one unguarded instant Ben had let down his walls, and Ray… he must have seen everything. 

“Sorry,” he heard himself babbling as he backed off. “I didn’t mean… did you sleep well? I hope… Sorry.”

Ray blinked, and sat up. Groaned and started rubbing his arm. 

“Did I? I didn’t mean to, sorry Ray…” He was still blithering. Stop it Benton, he told himself firmly. You stop that right now… Despite his Grandmother's stentorian tones in his head, he couldn’t stop. “You must have pins and needles," he said, too quickly, "it would have been alright, you could have moved your arm, I’m sorry…”

“Hey, Benny," Ray yawned, a little too ostentatiously. "Let a guy get a word in. Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Ben stuttered, and fell silent. Ray was putting on a careful act, but he looked nearly normal, as though he hadn't woken up with that... that expression on his face. Did that mean… what did that mean? They were still friends?

“Listen, Benny, I don’t know about you, but I’m so hungry I could probably eat bugs. You got any idea what’s for breakfast? And how the hell we’re gonna get outta here?”

“Ah.” Ben un-tensed, just a little bit. Ray was going to pretend nothing had ever happened. They were back to friends, at least.

And breakfast, finding civilisation… pretending nothing had ever happened. Those were things that he could do.  
…

Ray seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself as he fished for his morning meal, and was at his sarcastic best when Dief joined in. Ben fell back into his familiarly didactic role, informing Ray that Arctic wolves were actually very good at fishing. Dief promptly proved the point by lifting his head out of the water in a flashing shower of silver, and tossing a fish in the air. Ray managed to grab it and throw it to the bank, the first of their catch, and cheerfully congratulated Dief and himself for being mighty hunters. Despite the hollow ache in his chest, Ben smiled. 

“Berries, fish and mushrooms.” Ray sat back, after breakfast, patting his belly, looking happy and replete. “You know, Benny, when you’re not blind, you’re a damn good cook.”

“Thank you, Ray. I aim to please.”

“Don’t get me wrong. You’re no ‘Vecchio’ in the kitchen department, but you’re no slouch either. This is a hell of a lot better than bugs.”

“Furry night-crawlers.”

“Whatever. I think you made them up.”

Ben's mouth twitched in an abortive grin as he started tidying up the camp, and Ray groaned. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?" 

“We should get started,” Ben said, “if we’re going to find an inhabited area today.” 

Ray snorted. “Yeah, let’s do that,” he said, "and try not get shot at." He hoisted a bag on his shoulders. "Lead on, MacDuff."

"Actually, that's 'lay on...'"

And they were off, bickering away as though nothing had changed between them at all.

Maybe, and this was the worst thought of all... maybe it hadn't.  
...

Ben was fairly sure that they were finally approaching a road. There was (or at least he thought there was) the faintest hum of traffic in the far distance, but he decided not to say anything. He was not yet sure of his own perceptions. He had thought last night that Ray was… that he felt…

Good Lord… His mind flinched away from the more painful shame, and he thought instead of the fool he’d made of himself when he was blind, trying to reassure himself as much as Ray that he knew what he was doing. Walking into trees. Stumbling over fires. He cringed. No… he wouldn’t mention the traffic yet. He obviously had a tendency to only see and hear that which he wanted to. He’d wait until Ray could hear it for himself before he trusted his senses.

Half an hour later, Ray heard it. 

“Hey, Benny,” his friend’s face broke into a grin. “That what I think it is?”

“Yes, Ray. Vehicular traffic.” Ben smiled, even though his heart hurt, and he was taking refuge in unnecessary verbiage. When they left these woods, they’d leave last night behind them. Ray would never mention it again and…

Ray clapped him on the back. “You did it, Benny. You got us out of the woods. Come on… let’s go find that 'vehicular traffic' of yours, and flag a lift."

So, they did. And if it hurt that Ray hadn’t acknowledged their intimacy, at least he was still there. And at least he still touched him. Hand on the shoulder, pat on the back. His friend. His best friend.

Not what Ben wanted. Not what he wanted at all... but infinitely more than he deserved.


End file.
